When I told my then, partner I was pregnant, the first words I remember hearing were, “I think we can both agree it’s better you terminate.” They weren’t the very first words he said, but they stuck with me. Looking back, I probably should have realized then that I might end up parenting alone. But it wasn’t until over a year later, crying into a flight attendant’s shoulder 31,000 feet in the air, that it really hit me.
My daughter wasn’t planned, but she quickly became the best surprise I’ve ever had. We had talked about having a family long before she arrived, about pregnancy, adoption, fostering, but honestly, I don’t think either of us truly believed it would happen.
The moment I told him, our relationship hit a rough patch. We eventually started talking it through, and I thought we were okay. Less than three months later, he told me he was moving 6,000 miles away. Just like he hadn’t chosen the pregnancy, I didn’t get to choose this. I cried before he left, overwhelmed by the thought of raising a child alone. He said, “It’s not goodbye, it’s see you later,” but I couldn’t believe him.
Maybe it was pressure from society or my idea of a “perfect family,” but we stayed together and tried long-distance. While he went to parties, dinners, and started a new life abroad, I stayed home with our tiny baby. I found myself watching other dads in parks, on social media, on TV, and wondering if my daughter would ever have that. Postnatal depression crept in, and I ended up needing help from social services to piece my life back together, while he seemed carefree on a faraway balcony.
Unsurprisingly, our relationship started to crumble. I resented him for leaving me with a baby, and he probably resented me for having one in the first place. Before Dewdrop, I had a law degree and big dreams of traveling the world eating pizza in Italy, croissants in Paris, wandering through markets in Vietnam. Suddenly, my life looked very different.
Weeks before he left, we had talked about starting a life together in his new country. I clung to that idea, thinking it might fix everything. I had two choices: follow him or lose what we had. Wanting to keep my family together, I packed my bags and boarded a plane with Dewdrop.
At first, it wasn’t bad. We explored the city during the day while he worked. Traveling with a baby was manageable, and I started to feel like life hadn’t changed so much. Dewdrop tried new foods, practiced crawling near the pool, and our days were exciting and full. But evenings, when he came home, things didn’t feel right.
It only took a week before I discovered a hidden truth: he had been unfaithful. I showed him the messages and the photos, and he admitted it without looking at me. I spent the next week cleaning the apartment obsessively and clinging even closer to Dewdrop. It was just the two of us, and for the first time, it truly felt that way. A few days later, we booked the first flight home. This time, it was really goodbye.
For a long time, I thought this was the worst chapter of my life. My relationship had ended, I was a solo parent, balancing work and a newborn, and I had spent so much precious time waiting for him to call. But I was wrong.
2019 ended up being a year of growth and strength. I survived a long-haul flight alone with a baby, overcame postnatal depression, built a life for our small family, and learned to see the good in the chaos. I realized I am enough, and I can do anything if I put my mind to it.
Today, Dewdrop has little contact with her father. He calls sometimes but hasn’t seen her since her first birthday. I worry sometimes about what she’s missing, and yes, I probably overcompensate when he lets her down. But I am enough.
Being a solo parent is exhausting. My mental health isn’t always perfect, I get frustrated and tired, and sometimes I just want to lock myself in a room and be alone. But even with all that, I love it. Dewdrop and I have grown into a team. We’ve traveled together, met elephants in Asia, visited Disneyland Paris, hunted down the best croissants, and built sandcastles on Welsh beaches.
It’s not the life I imagined, but it’s ours. We’re stronger than I ever thought we could be. After all the heartache and challenges, I’ve learned this: if I am by her side, I am exactly where I’m meant to be.
